


took my soul and wiped it clean

by Padraigen



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, M/M, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past extremely dubious consent, Pining, Post-TKK1, Rating May Change, Roommates, Slow Burn, Teen Lawrusso, Vulnerable Johnny, daniel is gone for johnny and his baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29804535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padraigen/pseuds/Padraigen
Summary: Daniel overhears Johnny's stepdad kick him out. Due to circumstances, he invites Johnny to live with him and his mom temporarily.It doesn't turn out to be very temporary at all, but due to other circumstances—such as falling in love—he doesn't really mind.
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence, past John Kreese/Johnny Lawrence
Comments: 64
Kudos: 118





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> please read the tags before you begin this fic. mentions of johnny's past relationship with kreese will pop up throughout, but i never go into it very explicitly.
> 
> male pregnancy is not unheard of in this universe, but it is exceedingly rare and taboo. if this subject content squicks you out, fair enough, but please keep it to yourself and just exit out of the fic.
> 
> title is from the song _All I Want_ by Kodaline.
> 
> enjoy!

Daniel was supposed to be in bed, but the medication they’d given him for his knee was working wonders and his ma had run home for a quick shower and, well… he’d been bored.

So now he was wandering—read: limping—around the halls, smiling guilelessly at every nurse he passed, trying to remember where his room was. It had only just occurred to him that he probably should have made note of the number before he’d left the room, but beating himself up about that wasn’t really going to help him now.

That was when he heard the yelling. Daniel winced at the sheer volume and, despite himself, wandered closer to the room it seemed to be filtering out of. So he was a nosy prick—blame his genes—sue him.

“— _had it with you!_ ” A man was screaming as Daniel drew near. _“First the karate screwup, now this_ — _If you think I’m letting you and your little spawn back into my house, you’ve got another thing coming!”_

_“Sid, please!”_

_“Shut up, Laura! I do not associate myself with any kind of knocked up whore, I don’t care if he’s your son! If I ever see this little bastard again, you’ll wish I hadn’t.”_

Daniel’s eyes widened when he heard heavy footsteps approaching from the other side of the door—a door he’d just now realized he was leaning against—and he just barely scrambled out of the way before it was being flung open. A man wearing an expensive-looking suit and thunderous scowl strode out and, thankfully, took off down the hall opposite where Daniel was currently pressed up against the wall. He didn’t even seem to notice Daniel’s presence.

Daniel huffed out a breath of relief, then turned back towards the door clicking shut again. Something uneasy was twisting up his stomach— _karate screwup?_ —and he couldn’t help pressing his ear back against the door.

“— _until he cools off,”_ said the same voice of the woman he’d heard before, softer now. _“I’ll talk to him.”_

_“Yeah, because that always helps.”_

Daniel’s stomach took a nosedive. He knew that voice—just a couple hours ago, in fact, it’d told him ‘ _You’re alright, LaRusso_.’ That voice belonged to Johnny Lawrence.

The implications of that realization couldn’t really be processed by Daniel’s scrambling brain, which—to be fair—was still pretty doped up on pain meds. He gaped at the door like a dumbass and didn’t even care if anyone was watching.

_Johnny was…?_

And, yeah, Daniel’s brain couldn’t finish that thought even if you’d paid him.

_“I’ll grab some of your stuff and come right back,”_ the woman was saying as Daniel zoned back into the conversation. _“Do you want me to call Bobby? I’m sure he won’t mind if you stayed with him for a couple nights.”_

_“No!”_ Daniel jerked back in shock at the pitched protest. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Johnny sound like that before. Johnny seemed to heed his own tone, because his next words were much quieter, enough so that Daniel could barely hear him. _“You don’t have to do that. I_ — _I’ll call him.”_

_“Alright, sweetheart.”_

Daniel had less time to prepare for the footsteps approaching the door, this time much lighter. He spun around and hobbled a couple steps down the corridor, trying to pretend he’d just been passing through, when the door opened. He didn’t turn around as the footsteps headed in the opposite direction, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared entirely.

Only then did he collapse against the wall.

_Holy shit._

Johnny Lawrence was… And Daniel had…

The uneasy knotting of his stomach tripled in discomfort, and he thought he might be sick. _Oh, God._

Daniel knew that he was probably the last person on earth Johnny wanted to see right now, but a heavy sense of guilt was crushing his windpipe, making it hard for him to breathe. He should leave him alone. Johnny probably needed to rest— _so do you_ , said a chiding voice inside his head that sounded a lot like Mr. Miyagi—but Daniel couldn’t make himself turn away. _Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? Why’d he always have to butt in where he didn’t belong?_

Shit.

Daniel sucked in a long breath and, against his better judgement, knocked on the door.


	2. II.

Daniel tipped his head against the door to hear better, but… no. There was nothing.

No answer.

He thought about knocking again but worried he’d lose his nerve if he stood out here too long—and what if Johnny had already fallen asleep? He was just gonna stick his head in real quick, he told himself, and it was only partly because he wanted to see Johnny with his own two eyes. If he was sleeping, he’d leave. Simple.

Daniel didn’t consider what he’d do if he wasn’t.

With less trepidation than was probably healthy, Daniel’s fingers wrapped around the knob and turned.

Johnny was not asleep. He was sitting up in his hospital bed, one of those stupid hospital gowns they’d also made Daniel put on slipping precariously from his right shoulder, his walkman in his lap. He didn’t even look up when Daniel fully entered the room, just continued untangling his head phones. “What.”

And Daniel really should have planned this out better. He cleared his throat.

Johnny’s gaze shifted up, but slowly, like he was reluctant. When he saw Daniel, his eyes widened, but then quickly narrowed again. Daniel’s heart raced.

“What are you doing here?”

Somehow, Daniel was sure the question was meant to come out derisive and spiteful, but it missed its mark. Mostly Johnny just sounded tired.

He had a bruise that was starting to mottle his left cheek, dark purple marring the otherwise flawless skin. Daniel stared at it.

“You’re pregnant?”

_Jesus Christ_. Daniel almost flinched from his own words—he couldn’t even think it just a couple minutes ago and now it just fell from his lips, no filter, and what a surprise, really, that Daniel speaks before he thinks. He regretted the words immediately, but even more so as he watched Johnny’s hands fist and his jaw clench, his eyes a little wild as they searched Daniel’s face. His breathing visibly picked up, and, _shit,_ Daniel knew he should’ve left it alone. Why, _why_ couldn’t he leave it alone?

Daniel lifted his hands, like trying to pacify a trapped animal, and said inanely, “Hey, calm down, man… I didn’t—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

And Daniel knew he fucked up by the lack of added insult— _you little twerp_. Johnny was _pissed_ , obviously, but more than that he was… scared. Holy shit, Johnny was scared of him—he thought that should be a lot more satisfying than it actually felt, but it wasn’t gratifying in the least. He felt like a jerk.

“I—I’m not gonna tell anybody—” he tried, hoping to be reassuring, but he didn’t know what was freaking Johnny out so badly and he didn’t think it worked.

“You’re nuts, man,” Johnny croaked, and maybe he should just let him have it. _Yeah, man, you’re right, I dunno what I was thinkin’. I’m gonna leave you alone now_ (and forever) _. Have a good day!_

But—

“I heard… that guy,” Daniel said, quiet—almost a whisper—like he hoped Johnny wouldn’t hear. “He was a real asshole for talking to you like that.”

Johnny’s lips twisted into a familiar scowl, and Daniel would never admit to being relieved to see it. “So you’re a thief, a cheat, _and_ a snoop, is that it?”

And suddenly all of Daniel’s sympathy went out the window, because really? _What the hell._ “I’m not a cheat!”

“Oh, yeah? What d’ya call that illegal kick, then?”

“It wasn’t _illegal_ , you prick—” And _fuck_ , this was what Johnny _wanted_. He could see it in his glittering eyes. Clever bastard thought if they were sniping at each other as usual then Daniel would be distracted from the real issue. The reason he was even in here right now.

It was as good as a verbal confirmation. Johnny _was_ pregnant, and trying desperately to hide it.

What, did Johnny think if he pissed him off enough he’d just walk away? Forget about it? And, yeah, maybe that would have worked once upon a time, but Daniel was exceptionally stubborn and obnoxious when he wanted to be, and he really felt like Johnny ought to know that by now. Hadn’t he proven it yet?

“No, you know what, this is _stupid_. I’m not gonna fight with you, Johnny.”

“Then why are you _here_?”

And Daniel was shocked into stillness by the distress he heard in Johnny’s voice, the way it audibly cracked on the word _here_. And he didn’t know, really—why he was here, that was. By now his presence seemed to be more of an unnecessary and unwanted torment than anything else.

“I just—I wanted to say sorry. I didn’t know…” _I didn’t know you were pregnant._ If he’d known, he never would have fought him. Just the thought of one misplaced kick, one too-hard punch, was enough to make him queasy.

Johnny rolled his eyes, which was a little unfair, Daniel thought. He was being sincere here, couldn’t Johnny throw him a bone? Didn’t even have to be very big—like a rat’s rib or something, those had to be tiny, right?

“Of course you didn’t know, nobody knew. Not even me.” Johnny shifted against his pillows, leaned back some. His eyes were locked on his hands, like the way his fingers fidgeted with the cord of his headphones was incredibly fascinating. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

Daniel shrugged, even though Johnny wasn’t looking at him. He hedged, “Are you okay?”

Johnny scoffed. “Oh, I’m just dandy, LaRusso, thanks for asking.”

It was Daniel’s turn to roll his eyes, but it lost most of its effect since Johnny still wasn’t looking at him. “Can I… do anything? Y’know, to help?”

Johnny’s fingers stopped fiddling. His eyes flicked up. “What?”

This was where Daniel hesitated. He really had no business being here, and they both knew it, but the sight of Johnny miserably slumped in a hospital bed wearing that dumb gown that was still slipping down his hunched shoulders, bruised and alone was doing something to Daniel’s head. And, weirdly, his heart.

“I heard your dad say—”

“— _step_ dad—”

“—yeah, stepdad. I heard him say he was kicking you out.”

“Oh? You hear anything else, LaRusso?” Johnny grumbled, but Daniel readily ignored him.

“If you need someplace to stay, you can stay with us,” Daniel said quickly, trying to get the words out before he could cop out. “I mean, me and my mom. The place is small, and I know it wouldn’t be like anything you’re used to, but… ma can cook a mean lasagna, and if I’m feeling particularly generous I’ll even let you have first crack at the shower every morning.”

_Oh, great job, LaRusso, really talk it up._

But Johnny didn’t seem like he was especially unimpressed. He was staring at Daniel oddly, the look in his eyes unreadable. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing prominently in his throat, drawing Daniel’s attention like a bee to pollen.

“Why would you do that?” Johnny finally rasped, like he was struggling to get the words out. “After what I did to you?”

And how could Daniel say that he hated what Johnny looked like, sitting there more defeated than he had been after he’d lost the tournament? How could he say how much it was eating him up inside, the _what if_ s and _could have_ s? He couldn’t have known—Johnny had said as much himself—but he still felt like he should’ve.

“To make up for… for the tournament.” And he knew it was the wrong thing to say even as he was saying it, but the way Johnny’s eyes hardened still made him wince.

“I don’t need your pity.” His voice was steel.

“No, no, that’s not what I—” Daniel huffed at himself, _idiot, such an idiot._ “It’s not pity, Johnny, I just want to help. Please, let me help.”

And Johnny must've been real desperate because it only took a few moments for him to straighten his spine and hold his head high, like he was getting ready to go into battle or something. Jesus, why was everything a fight with him?

Then—

“Okay,” he said simply.

Daniel blinked and waited for a moment, then jerked his head forward like that would allow him to hear better, or as if to ask _that’s it?_

“Okay?”

“Yeah, _okay._ ” Johnny dropped his chin back down and stared some more at his hands. “Thanks. I guess.”

_Wow,_ Daniel thought, but he was smiling.


	3. III.

“Oh, that poor darling.”

“Yeah. But maybe don’t say that to his face, he’s a little… touchy.” _Understatement of the goddamn millenium._

“Oh, Daniel.” Daniel’s mom ran her fingers through his ruffled hair, her nails scraping pleasantly across his scalp. His eyes almost closed. “He was the one from the tournament, wasn’t he? The one you fought in the finals?”

Daniel hummed noncommittally, not completely sure where she was going with that.

“... He was rather blonde.”

He groaned. “Christ, ma.”

—

Both Daniel and Johnny were forced to stay in the hospital overnight, but fortunately they were released the next day.

Daniel left with a massive, cumbersome knee brace that he could already tell he was gonna get tired of real fast and some crutches, but at least he hadn’t needed surgery, so that was a plus. He wasn’t real thrilled with the idea of physical therapy, but… sacrifices. They all made them.

Johnny wasn’t as gracefully accepting of his own situation.

His mother had come by in the night to leave him with some of his own things, so he wouldn’t be entering a whole new setting without anything familiar to fall back on, but this didn’t seem to comfort him much. He’d barely said anything all morning, not even to snap at Daniel, and Daniel could tell from the look on his mom’s face through the rear view mirror that he was not the only one who found that maybe, marginally, sort of worrisome.

“Hey.” Daniel unbuckled his seatbelt and slid across the seat till he was right beside Johnny, laying one hesitant, gentle hand on top of his right knee. “You okay?”

Johnny startled from where he’d been silently staring out his window, head whirling around to meet Daniel. For a moment, he stared at him like he couldn’t recognize him. Then his blue eyes cleared, and his leg twitched away from Daniel’s touch. “I’m fine.”

Daniel didn’t know if he was acting so subdued and polite for his mom’s sake or if it was actually all genuine, but he found himself hoping for the former.

Johnny turned back to the window, and Daniel could think of nothing else to do but leave him alone. Even his mom was quiet—a rarity indeed—like they had both picked up on the delicacy of the situation and didn’t want to make it even more painful than it already was.

A few minutes of strained silence later, the old, beat up station wagon finally pulled into the LaRusso’s apartment complex. The relief inside the cramped interior of the car was palpable.

Daniel pushed open his door, fighting to free his crutches from where he’d laid them against the front seat. It was a struggle to stand up and get the stupid things under his arms—and, yeah, he was already tired of this—but at least it was a bit of a distraction from the uneasy air smothering them all.

Johnny’s head was bowed as he followed Daniel’s mom through the gate—Daniel took up the rear with an incessant _click, click, click_ —the bag his mother had brought for him hanging from his shoulder.

On the stairs up to the apartment, his mom turned to Johnny and asked, “Do you have anything specific you’d like for dinner, dear? I was gonna see what we had in the fridge, but I thought your first meal with us should be special—”

“Anything is fine, Ms. LaRusso,” Johnny said quickly. His wide eyes would have been comical on any other occasion, but right now his clear discomfort wasn’t funny, just kinda… sad. Daniel shook his head, trying to keep up on the steps.

“Great!” Daniel’s mom searched her purse for her keys and kept talking while she opened the door to the apartment. “I was thinking risotto. You ever had risotto?”

“Uh… I don’t think so.”

“Oh, you have to try it! It’s delicious, I promise.”

Daniel was surprised by the desperate look Johnny threw him over his shoulder and wished more than anything he had more to offer than a shrug. But it really was best to let Lucille LaRusso chatter and do whatever it was she was gonna do. Just sit back, nod and smile—made life infinitely easier.

The apartment seemed a whole lot smaller with Johnny Lawrence standing inside it. And he’d already told Johnny not to expect much, but Daniel couldn’t help the pull of self-consciousness as he watched Johnny glance around, silent, expression unchanging.

“We’ll have to pull out the cot from the closet when you’re ready to go to bed.” Daniel’s mom was already moving to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge. “Daniel, why don’t you show him to your room?”

“Yeah, sure.” Daniel angled around Johnny, who hadn’t moved an inch since he’d stepped inside, leading him down a hallway that led to his room. He knocked the door open using the bottom of one crutch and grimaced at the state of the bedroom. He wished he’d thought to clean it, even though he couldn’t possibly have known that when he left the day of the tournament that he’d come back to it with Johnny Lawrence in tow.

CDs were stacked in unsystematic piles against one wall, and dirty laundry took up most of the carpet space. He winced at the chip bag that he’d tried to throw into the mini garbage can beside his bed, but had missed and hadn’t bothered to pick back up. Beneath it was a pair of boxers.

Ah, well.

Daniel thought it was pretty typical of a teenage boy’s room, and if Johnny’s was any cleaner it was only because he had a maid or something who cleaned it for him, so he could fuck right off if he had anything to say about it.

He didn’t. At least, not about that.

“What the hell, LaRusso?” Johnny dropped his bag to the floor and glared at him. Daniel stared back in confusion. “You don’t have a guest room? Who invites guests over when they don’t have a guest room? Seriously, a _cot_?”

And Daniel could feel the tips of his ears start to heat, which just pissed him off because yeah, maybe he had a point, but who was doing who a favor here? This was the thanks he got?

“Hey, man, if we don’t meet your standards, no one’s keeping you here. Feel free to call your little Cobra Kais, I’m sure they’d love to know what’s happened to you. Or is our telephone not good enough for you, either?”

He kind of enjoyed how red Johnny was in the face, that familiar scowl, those cutting eyes. It was the most emotion he’d seen from him all day, and he figured he couldn’t be picky about that kind of thing.

“Shut up,” was Johnny’s groundbreaking reply.

Daniel couldn’t help a snort—he really tried, though, honest. But his amusement quickly faded as he watched Johnny’s shoulders slump, his face losing all of its earlier displeasure. It took only seconds for him to return to his dejected state.

This miserable bastard was gonna be the end of him, Daniel was sure.

“Look, I can take the cot,” Daniel offered, willing to give almost anything to stop Johnny looking like that, all withdrawn and quiet, a shell of the Johnny Lawrence who had stood across from him, fists up on the mat—vibrant and determined and powerful. “You can sleep on my bed.”

“No way,” Johnny said immediately. “I’m not taking your bed when you have a broken fucking leg.”

“It’s not broken,” Daniel protested. “C’mon, Johnny, I really don’t mind—”

“I said no, so drop it.” His voice brooked no arguments. And Daniel didn’t think he was just trying to be contrary. No, this was a matter of pride.

“Fine.”

There would be no convincing him, anyway. For now, at least, he’d let him have this one.


	4. IV.

Johnny woke sweaty and nauseous in the extremely early hours of morning, when even the faintest light wasn’t yet streaming in through LaRusso’s window, and quickly threw off his blankets. The cot’s springs creaked intolerably loudly as he sat up and stood, tip-toeing fast and quiet to the door and down the hall until he reached the bathroom LaRusso had shown him last night.

He collapsed with as little noise as he was physically capable of in front of the toilet and heaved into the porcelain bowl. His arms trembled where they were hanging onto the sides of the toilet, and his head throbbed in time with the racing beat of his heart. His sweaty sleep shirt stuck uncomfortably to his spine and the back of his neck, and the second there was a pause in his retching, he pulled back to shuck it off and toss it to the other side of the bathroom, trying not to notice how much effort the movement took, how exhausted he was after sagging back against the toilet.

There was nothing on this earth he hated more than throwing up. And who liked throwing up, right?, but Johnny thought that he might despise it even more than the average person, even more than what could be expected of somebody doing the technicolor yawn.

He could remember being sick as a little kid, how his mom would gently hold back the hair from his face as his stomach cramped painfully. She would grab a wad of toilet paper and run it under the faucet, tenderly wipe his mouth and whisper sweet encouragement as he cried. She’d eventually stand and bring him some water, and then after she helped him change his pajamas, she would lay with him in bed, running her fingers through his hair until he dozed off.

But then he got older and they moved in with Sid, and the house was so big he and his mom might as well have been on opposite sides of the country because she wasn’t there anymore to hold back his hair while he heaved. He’d cry, all the while wishing desperately that somehow his mother would hear him, would _know_. But when she never came, he eventually had to learn how to be sick on his own.

He wasn’t crying now—small mercies—but the thought of having to do this for the next few weeks—maybe even months—really made him want to.

A soft knock interrupted his miserable musings, and his head weakly swung up to find LaRusso leaning against the doorway, looking like he’d been there awhile. For one insane moment Johnny almost apologized—he’d tried to be quiet, he really had—but the words got stuck in his aching throat.

LaRusso didn’t say anything, just limped closer and held out a glass of water, his other hand twitching by his side. Johnny thought it was probably the most considerate thing he could’ve done—he probably wouldn’t have been able to resist puking on him if he’d tried to hover over him while his dinner came back up.

He showed his thanks by taking the glass after wiping his mouth. _Small sips_ , said the voice in his head that sounded like his mom.

LaRusso leaned over and flushed the toilet, nothing on his face suggesting disgust or irritation, and then he looked down at where Johnny was still kneeling on the tile, his eyes big and open. He held out a hand, and Johnny stared at it for a long time, until the point it should have started shaking, and yet somehow it never wavered.

Then he nodded, _okay_ , and took LaRusso’s hand. Let him pull him up. And followed him back to the room.

—

Morning dawned and Johnny mostly tried to forget the past couple hours where he laid staring at the ceiling.

Breakfast was cereal, and he liked that it was normal, something he’d had a million times before. Mostly bland and forgettable, sure, but he didn’t think he could stomach anything more right now, certainly nothing greasy.

He sat at the tiny kitchen table as LaRusso poured himself a bowl of his own Cheerios, right into the milk that he’d already added like a lunatic. Johnny was kinda relieved to have something else to hate him for, since what happened in the night had sort of blurred those feelings for him, and he took great pleasure mocking LaRusso for it.

Ms. LaRusso strode into the kitchen then, grin already plastered across her face. She wore a pair of floral jeans his own mother wouldn’t be caught dead in, but Johnny could admit she looked nice, her blue knitted sweater matching her eyes. She looked very… motherly.

There was suddenly a lump in Johnny’s throat that he couldn’t quite explain.

“Good morning, boys,” she greeted as Daniel stuffed a spoonful of Cheerios into his face while still standing at the counter, apparently uninterested in juggling his crutches and a bowl of cereal all the way over to the table.

They both parroted back simultaneously:

“Morning, ma.”

“Good morning, Ms. LaRusso.”

Ms. LaRusso pulled out some bread from the cupboard. “You know Christmas is only five days away. I was thinking Johnny could help us pick out a tree. There’s a farm in San Bernardino, a little more than an hour away, what do you say we make a day of it?”

Johnny exchanged a look with LaRusso, but he only shrugged like, _I don’t mind if you don’t._ And what was Johnny supposed to say to that?

“Uh, sure,” Johnny stammered. “I mean, yeah. I’d like that.”

And it was a lie, but it was also kind of worth it to see the wide smile Ms. LaRusso flashed him, looking so much like her son. He really didn’t think he deserved her kindness—putting him up in her home, cooking for him, and now including him in activities that by all rights should’ve been for family only. All of that after what he’d done to her son during the tournament (and everything before it, though he was kinda hoping she didn’t know about that).

It made him want to try to reciprocate. At the very least, he wanted to be a good guest.

Hesitantly, he smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone know of any cobra kai or lawrusso discords i could join??

**Author's Note:**

> please drop a comment if you have a chance! thanks!
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](https://padraigendragon.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
